


Crossover Episode

by Hezjena2023



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crossover!Verse, Post DAI, What happens when four Lavellans all team up, alternative universe, bucket of solavellans, crackfic, crossover episode, fanfic of fanfic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hezjena2023/pseuds/Hezjena2023
Summary: Set after the events of DAI, and before Trespasser.Four Inquisitors are just trying to close some Fade Rifts, little do they know, events on this particular day will force them together. Will they be able to get along, and save Thedas?Who knows >.<Featuring;Nesterin from The Promise, by FenhelloEllana from Carrion for Crows, by Alexis_TrvlynMirwen from Under the Shadow of Elvhenan, by DoreNaErgoSumIseshena from Rituals of the DalishThis is mostly a bit of fun, but will contain spoilers for all four works.





	1. The Daughters of Clan Lavellan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dore_N](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dore_N/gifts), [Alexis_Trvlyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Trvlyn/gifts).

> Early Wintersent gift to my lovelies, Fenhello, Alexis_Trvlyn and DoreNaErgoSum. You guys are the freaking best, and thank you so much for trusting me with your Lavellans <3

Emerald power pulsed in the air, the Rift screamed in fury as I tried to stitch the tear in the Veil back together. Every muscle in my body ached as I thrust my marked hand towards the sky, and held on. The Rift resisted, pushed back against my efforts to be healed. 

Torchbearer, my hart, whined underneath and began to panic. I could feel his tension and he pawed impatiently at the ground. 

Still I held on, leaning up in the saddle to try to get closer to the Rift. But the movement unsettled Torchbearer, the centre of gravity off. He began bucking under me. And I clung onto the reins with my unmarked hand. 

Suddenly, like an inflated bladder popping, the Rift slammed shut. And the hart threw me. I hit the ground hard.

"Sylaise fuck me in the arse," I groaned underneath my breath. My shoulder ached and my head split. With my unmarked hand I rubbed my head,  _ no blood,  _ good. But it felt like there was a bump forming. I pushed herself to a sitting position and rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands, trying to clear my blurry vision. 

"Hands where I can see them." A voice snapped that I didn’t recognise. 

I froze, and gently lowered my hands. Stretching them out across my lap. 

The voice belonged to the holder of a crossbow, aimed directly at my chest. "I will fire," the voice threatened, lilting with a Marcher accent. "Who are you? How did you get here?" 

Blinking, at the figure in front of me, I tried to form an answer. The figure was wearing some kind of stylised Inquisition armour. The sun glinted off the bronze chest piece embossed with the sword and eye. On her head was a full helm, shaped like a bird. Complete with elaborately engraved beak. The eyes obstructed, they seemed like dark pits that spiralled down into the woman’s soul. 

Stalling for time as I tried to place her, I shouted back, "please, I’m unarmed."  _ Although it was technically a lie,  _ I wasn’t about to throw the knife in my boot away for whoever this person was. 

The figure twisted before she could respond turning the crossbow on an approaching rider. "Stay back!" The raven-helmed woman shouted. 

Ignoring the command, the rider continued on her approach, but kept well enough back that she would be able to dodge from the bolt if needed. Atop a dusky brown hart, the new woman pulled a dark wooden staff from behind her back, her equally dark hair whipped around her face in the breeze. She skillfully maneuvering the hart without having to keep hold of the reins. "What’s going on here?" The mage called in response. "Why are you wearing the Inquisitorial-" the rest of her words got caught and stolen away by a fierce gust of wind. 

Triumphantly the woman holding the crossbow shifted slightly, and I could almost picture the helm obscuring her mocking smirk. "Finally someone recognises who I am." 

The disjointed response stuck in my mind. I glanced between the two, head splitting and noticed the hint of green on the mage’s palm, _it was mad, utterly utterly mad._ _But I’d seen stranger things in Thedas. _"Inquisitor?" 

Both women turned at the same time. 

"Help!" A third voice called from what would have been the other side of the Rift. Hidden from view as the ground dipped down. 

The woman with the crossbow swivelled, her shoulders rocking and she was panting hard. But no one approached. "Where did you come from?" She demanded again, rounding back on the two of us. 

Carefully, the horse rider, dismounted. "I suggest we call a truce while we figure this out." She called. And whispered something to her hart. 

The majestic creature stood, patiently and as she turned from it, it nudged her shoulder lightly with its muzzle. 

All the while keeping her eyes on the crossbow, the mage approached me. "Your hand," she whispered, her voice catching slightly in her throat, her voice reminding me of Merrill’s. She glanced down at me and offered her hands to helped me up. 

"Yep," I said simply enough when I was back on my feet and had brushed the grass off my scout armour. I pushed my hood back off my face and wiggled my hand out, revealing my own mark. "I touched the stupid orb, got the stupid mark. Yay for me."

The rider frowned, her eyes scanning back and forth as though she was reading text, "so did I." 

I turned to the crossbow wielding woman, "oi! Raven, have you got a mark as well?" 

Carefully, she took the bolt off her crossbow and disarmed it, then slung the weapon on her back. She strode towards us. "My name is Ellana, if you feel the need to address me, and I am the bearer of the Anchor." She hissed at me, but also showed off her own marked hand. 

_ Ellana,  _ the name tore a dark hole straight through my bones. I found my chest tighten, I worried the little enchanted ring on my finger. Wondering if I dared used it. 

Swallowing,  _ be brave little hare,  _ "I’m Iseshena, and," I turned to the mage, "you’re?"

"Nesterin." 

_ Nesterin the horsegirl?  _ I burst out laughing so violently that it caused Nesterin to take a step back in alarm. 

Nesterin’s warm brown eyes narrowed, and she glared over me. "Want to share the joke?"

Breathing hard, trying to tame my hysteria, I threw a rude hand gesture up to the sky, "I understand. One of you tell me to wake up. This is the dumbest dream I’ve ever had." 

After a heartbeat, "wake up." Nesterin said crossing her arms over her chest and looking particularly annoyed with the whole situation. 

_ Nothing happened.  _

"Ugh." Ellana spat disgusted and pulled her helm off to reveal a shock of silver white hair that cascaded around her shoulders. "You’re not dreaming. Can’t you tell."

But her question was lost on me, her face was enough to silence me. I found myself instantly sober, "what happened?" I whispered. 

Across the blank canvas of her skin, a rough scar of Dirthamen’s vallaslin has been crudely carved. She ground her teeth together, as though the memory displeased her, she opened her mouth to speak but before she could say a word. 

"Help!" Came the third voice again.

" _ Fenedhis."  _ Nesterin swore, taking off immediately towards the sound of the voice.  _ We’d all forgotten about the other voice.  _

Ellana gave me a sharp look before we both followed. 

Half a hundred paces away was another woman. Dazed and lying propped up against a fallen wooden log. "Can you help me, I think it’s twisted." She told us as we approached, trying to pull herself into a sitting position. Her ankle was stick out as a slight angle and even from a distance I could see it was swollen. "I was trying to close the Rift, and Varithelan bolted." She glanced at us hopefully, but I wasn’t the first to spot her eyes were emerald green. The exact colour of the fade-Rift. 

"How do I know you’re not a demon?" Ellana spat, and I could already see her reaching for her crossbow. 

"She’s not a demon," Nesterin sighed heavily, crouching by the new woman’s discarded staff. Weighting it lightly before returning it to the injured woman. 

Confused the woman glanced between us, "can you help me get back to Skyhold? It isn’t more than a day or so ride. We can reward you if you return me safely." Her voice sweet with optimism. 

Seemingly in unison the three of us raised our marked hands. Showing off the predicament we had found ourselves in. "Do you think, the Rift did this?"

Nesterin made a croak, and her eyes rolled back into her head. She swayed a little where she stood and elvhen words dropped out of her mouth. 

"Is she okay?" The elf on the ground asked. 

Ellana shrugged. 

"Creepy," I noted quietly. 

Then, Nesterin froze and her eyes dropped back into place, "isn’t the first time and isn’t to do with the Rift. There was once six Mythals running round." 

There was a long silence.

I whistled, and scrunched up my nose, glancing around us to make sure there were not more surprises waiting on the horizon, "I have enough trouble with two." 

The other three turned at that comment, "two Mythals?" Nesterin asked her eyebrows raised. She was fiddling with some kind of sword hilt, which must have been broken because there was no trace of a blade. 

I stumbled to find my words, "well there’s a shard of her in Flemeth," the group nodded in agreement as though I had announced the sky was blue, "and after Merril drank from the Well-"

The injured woman cut me off clapping her hands together, and reaching out her arms to be helped up, "you know Merrill! Can you take me to her, our clans-"

"Umm, Merrill’s gone missing-" I replied, but took her hands anyway and dragged her to her feet.

She slung an arm around my shoulder to keep the weight off the damaged ankle. 

"Sorry, you’re Dalish?" Nesterin asked the new woman. 

Besides me she puffed her chest up and rearranged herself against me, she stretched out both hands in greeting, which were ignored. Frowning slightly, but undeterred the woman continued, "Mirwen Ashara Lavellan."

"No." Nesterin replied coldly. 

Mirwen coughed a little and twisted her hand back around my shoulder for balance, "what do you mean no, it’s my name."

"My little sister is Mirwen Lavellan, and you are not her." Nesterin replied darkly, her accent rolling the ‘a’s in the name. 

_ "Lavellan  _ ?" I asked, twisting my tongue around her pronunciation of my own name, "I’m Lavellan. Iseshena Deshanna Lavellan." 

Nesterin inhaled sharply at the mention did Deshanna. 

"Look," Ellana snapped, "if you three had been in my clan, do you not think I would have known?" 

I glanced between the unfamiliar faces, bare-faced all except for Ellana, I paused, licking my lip with my tongue and I looked for the best way to phrase the question, "if you’re also Dalish, what happened to your  _ vallaslin?"  _

The silence was utterly deafening. Nesterin looked uncomfortable, Mirwen like she might cry, while Ellana’s lips twisted in a murderous snarl. 

"-  _ fucking hedge mage."  _ I swore. 


	2. The Four Riders of the Fade-Rifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four Lavellans get back to Skyhold - but things are not quite how three of them remember.

The way back to Skyhold had been tense. Ellana had recalled her stallion with a sharp whistle, and then stubbornly refused to help us track down the two bolted harts. Claiming that it was really our faults for not training them better. And after that the mood had turned resolutely sour.

So Mirwen had clung onto me, trying to keep the weight off her ankle, while Nesterin had played sheepdog. A distrustful silence settled across us, broken occasionally my Mirwen’s attempts at small talk. 

As Skyhold came into view and we pressed up the mountain path. Suddenly struck by inspiration, I turned Torchbearer along the path towards my clan. Deshanna would be able to work this out, Nesterin had said that it had happened before. There must be some records somewhere. 

"Woh Falon," Nesterin called, clicking her teeth to slow her hart.

Friend. I twisted back feeling oddly hopeful, "yep?" 

Her eyes narrowed at me, "the hart is called Falon ." 

"Right." 

"Where are you going?" Nesterin asked, her voice as on edge as she was. 

I swiveled round on Torchbearer, confused that they all looked so confused. I pointed a finger down the path, "going to the clan?" 

"The clan’s dead." Ellana snapped, her pale blue eyes darting behind me. The carved lines of Dirthamen’s vallaslin pulled taut against her skin as she pursed her lips together. I saw her marked hand reach out for her crossbow, then seem to reconsider. She wrapped both hands tightly around the reigns of Panelan the silvery pale warhorse. Her words were met with as much confusion as my own. 

"They’re in Wycome, last I heard." Nesterin added, but shifted as though the knowledge brought her no pleasure. "There’s just an empty clearing up there." 

Ellana and I turned to Mirwen, expectantly. She looked a little nervous, and she twisted her auburn braid between her fingers. "I don’t know where they are." She admitted finally, before looking up hopefully, "I would like to see them again." 

I gave Mirwen a smile, which faded when I turned to the other women. 

It was Nesterin who nudged her heels into Falon’s sides, spurring him on, "whatever is up there will tell us which world we are in." 

"What do you mean which world?" Mirwen shouted after her. She turned to Ellana and I, "which world? We’re in a different world?" 

Ellana sighed heavily at Mirwen and begrudgingly followed Nesterin. 

I gave Mirwen a shrug and followed up the path. 

A knot of tension began to tighten in the pit of my stomach, following Nesterin and Ellana up the path. Which only loosened after I saw the wolf markers that guarded the boundary of the clan. I let out a breath that I hadn’t realised that I had been holding. We were in my world . 

Nesterin came to a sudden holt, so quickly that Ellana almost rode into her. Ignoring Ellana’s mutterings, Nesterin slid off her hart and waited. Her head turning to take in the make-shift camp. There were three red-sailed aravals spread out across the clearing, and a small bundle of tents and fire pits that littered the area. 

I noted that Moherinal was perched on a log, chewing the meat off a bone. He flicked a disinterested glance towards the new arrivals and shouted back. "The new campsites are back down the hill, we’re full up here." 

Ignoring that as well, Nesterin turned back, "where are the guards?" 

I pushed past Ellana, and frowned at the shorter woman, "guards? There’s like twelve of us." I turned back to the man, "where’s Deshanna?" 

"Els!" Moherinal waved the haunch in greeting, "in the araval ."

"Els?" I heard Ellana comment from behind me, there was a twist in her tone that sounded more like a sneer than anything.

"Oh gods, Deshanna ." Mirwen murmed. Smoothing down her shirt and her hair at the same time.

I tried to pass a friendly glance to Nesterin. 

But the mage was rooted to the spot, looking as though she’d much prefer it if the ground swallowed her then and there. 

As we crossed the clearing, Moherinal asked, "who are your friends?" 

Biting my lip, to keep my comments to myself. "Honestly, it’s a long story." 

He raised an eyebrow, passing a long gaze over Mirwen. " Aneth ara, do you want me to show you around? You’ll find I’m a Keeper." He winked at her.

"Leave her alone, you monster." I snapped at him, rolling my eyes in a grossly exaggerated gesture. 

But Mirwen was blushing prettily, she gave him quite the coy smile, "I’d like that, I’m Mirwen, First." 

Nesterin snorted with disgust, in a gesture that faintly reminded me of Cassandra.

With a sharp glance at Nesterin, Mirwen stretched out her right hand to him. 

I could feel my face contorting, "ew." 

Moherinal glanced down, the corner of his mouth edging up, and I wondered for a heartbeat if he was going to kiss her hand. 

Instead, they shook hands in a very comfortable shem gesture, but then Mirwen’s smile dropped perceptible and she pulled back from the man in front of her, ‘I should warn you, I’ve just got out of a relationship." 

"Oh." Moherinal said, the word catching slightly on his tongue. He coughed and tried to cover himself, "which clan are you from?" Although his words didn’t lose their strangled quality. 

"Lavellan." She replied. 

Moherinal pulled his hand away slowly, and blinked at her for a long moment. Then he turned to me, "bad joke Els."

I flashed him a rude shem hand gesture and a smirk. "I told you. Long story." 

Grumpily, he stuck his tongue out at me, flourished a little bow to the other three women and stalked off. 

"Well as interesting as this little expedition has been, anyone have any idea on how to get us home?" Ellana asked in a stage whisper. 

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again. I didn’t have a clue. 

"Iseshena?" My mother called from the footstep of her araval, "you’re back early." 

I sighed, "trouble on the road." And I raised my hands, as though to say, look what I found. 

Deshanna blinked at the elvish women, and then down to note each of them had a marked hand. She pursed her lips, "come in then. I’ll put the kettle on." 

"Psst, where’s Deshanna?" Mirwen whispered as my Keeper turned back into the araval. 

I stretched my hand, and my eyebrows furrowed, "right in front of you." 

"That’s not-" Nesterin began and broke off, biting down on her bottom lip and looking frustrated. She hissed a sigh. 

The araval could comfortably fit three people. But the five of us crowded in regardless. 

Mirwen and I knocked elbows as we both tried to fit side by side on the bed. 

Deshanna took a little ledge by the stove after she had healed Mirwen’s ankle.

While, Nesterin sat cross legged on a wooden chest in the back of araval .

Ellana stood leant against the doorway, she had refused Deshanna’s tea, and looked as though she was waiting for the opportune moment to sneak away. She keep peering out, periodically and justified it by expressing discomfort at being in the tight space. I had wondered how a woman who grew up Dalish wouldn’t be familiar with the inside of an araval, but decided it was best not to ask. 

Mirwen’s shoulder nudged against mine as she leant forward, "it’s amazing," she gushed, "it looks like our world's separated about five hundred years ago." She beamed, "so much is similar," she spread her hands, "but we're so different!" 

Deshanna nodded towards Nesterin, "you did well to figure it out," she acknowledged with a warm smile. 

Nesterin’s face crumbled like a scrap of parchment and she looked away. Her jaw clamped tightly together, then a heartbeat later, her face was smooth again. And she gave my mother a tiny nod and she tapped her forehead, "they helped." 

The Keeper shook her head, "don’t undermine your achievement da’len ."

Nesterin’s reply was cut off by an impatient Ellana, "but it doesn’t explain how we got here. Or how we get back." She fiddled with an opal pendant she wore around her neck, the stone glinted in the candlelight, and the setting was shaped into two small wings. 

"Well, we can do it, together," Mirwen stated optimistically, standing and moved over to Ellana and touching her arm reassuringly. "We’ll get back, gods willing."

Ellana looked pointedly at the other woman’s hand, "do not touch me." She snarled. 

Mirwen pulled her hand back like she had been burnt and clutched it to her chest. 

When Deshana raised an eyebrow, Ellana gave her a dirty look. "You’re not my Keeper," then she waved a hand around the little room, "you’re not my clan. And I don’t like any of you." She spun from the araval in a flare of dark fabrics. 

"Who spat in her soup?" Mirwen asked, and then seemed to notice a smudge on her stormheart green bracer and she rubbed at it with her thumb. The green of her marked hand, distorting in the iridescent metal. She shuffled back over to the space on the bed beside me, and picked up her tea. She inhaled the scenes and gave Deshanna a smile, "it’s good tea." Then she laughed to herself and mumbled, "I detest tea," under her breath. 

The words tore through me, "sorry?" I said blinking at Mirwen. My hands found her arm, "what did you say?"

She flushed with embarrassment, "oh, no. The tea is good. Really." She tried to pull her arm away, flinching at the way my nails had dug in horror. "Ow, Iseshena," she said pointedly, and added, "it was just something stupid someone said one."

I retracted my hands from her, giving her an apologetic look, "sorry." I shook my head, "no, of course. It makes sense that you would know Solas as well." 

Nesterin’s fist was clutching against her belly as though she had some kind of stomach ache, "you know Solas well?" She demanded abruptly.

Mirwen looked across and gave her a little nod, and then a sort of twisted smile, "thought I knew him quite well, actually," she sighed longingly and swirled the contents of her mug around, "till he left me in a cave in Crestwood." She raised her cup, and then her head snapped to me. "He isn’t here is here? I really don’t want to run into him." She wrapped an arm around her chest.

I exchanged a look with Deshanna and swallowed hard. "Dirthamen untangle this mess." I cursed furiously, then looked back to Mirwen. 

Her fade-green eyes looked up at me expectantly. 

"No, you wont run into him here. He left." I plastered on the fakest smile I could. "After he broke up with me, in a cave in Crestwood." 

"What?" Mirwen gasped. Her hand was wrapped so tightly around her mug so hard I thought it might break. 

Nesterin stood suddenly and she didn’t need to say a word for us to understand, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She was most of the way to the door, "there is nothing to untangle, Iseshena." She breathed out painfully, "I need a drink." She rubbed her fingers against her temple, "- fucking Solas."

  
  
  



	3. Time Travel's a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PUB TIME! 
> 
> The plot thickens. 
> 
> Also, Dorian is there.

For a world that was utterly not her own, Nesterin strode directly into the Herald’s Rest as though she lived there. She didn’t even look back. 

Which left Mirwen and I outside. Mirwen gave a disappointed glance at the Tavern, and raised her hand to her eyes to shelter her vision from the glare of the setting sun. She twisted, scrutinising the layout of Skyhold. She raised a hand to the shrine that Moherinal had designed, sticking up from the battlements, "what’s that?" 

"Shrine," I said, giving her a smile. 

Mirwen blinked at it and then turned to me with a smirk, "I bet Mother Giselle was furious." 

Laughing to myself as I remembered the indeed enraged Giselle when I had bargained for a shrine in exchange for a Chantry. I almost suggested that I show her around, but then I glanced back to the Herald’s Rest. A prickle of guilt crept up my spine at leaving Nesterin alone, she seemed upset. But, it was more than that. She reacted badly to Mirwen’s revelation and had silently joined us in taking the harts up to Skyhold. Her fingers worked with cold efficiency as she had stabled Falon. She was in pain. A lot of pain. 

"Strange question,” Mirwen said titling her head at my for the moment, and a shower of auburn hair cascaded off her shoulder. “I’ve been looking for someone, I never considered it before, perhaps-” she paused, her teeth pressing into her lower lip, “do you know an elf called  Aenor?”

I blinked at her for a long moment, as the question slowly trickled through my mind, slowly I shook my head, “can’t say that I’m familiar with the name.”

The taller woman glanced around and twisted her hair up into a bun and then let it fall again a moment later. She squinted up at the night sky. 

“Anyone important?” I asked, wondering who this mystery person could be. 

She froze, just for a moment, on the verge of answering when her eye caught by the sign over the Tavern and she gave me a look, "it’s good to know the sign always looks like none of us." 

"Maybe Ellana?" I offered, giving Mirwen a sideways glance.

Mirwen snorted, and then school her features, "darling Ellana has a more," she paused, her teeth edging over her bottom lip as she fought a smile, "creative hair-do." 

I placed my hand onto the wood of the tavern door and threw my head back, "buy you a drink?" I offered. 

Mirwen laughed, "please," she scoffed, "I know the Herald drinks for free." 

  
  
  


As we pushed through the door, I saw Nesterin stood by the bar. One hand was on her hip and the other clutching onto the unpolished wood at the edge of the bar. 

Cabot was gesticulating wildly at her, "the cheek!" 

"How was I supposed to know!" Nesterin snapped back.

Cursing under my breath, I sprinted mostly empty room. 

The grumpy man gave me a barely concealed look of disdain, "look at this, your Worship, fake coins." 

Nesterin’s arms were crossed over her chest and she gave me a venomous look, "I didn’t know they were fake here." 

I glanced between the two, then noticed the two bottles of wine, jug of something that looked like ale, six tiny glasses of spirits and a bowl of fried turnip strips. "Having a party, are we?" I asked amused.

Nesterin flashed me a dagger-sharp glare. "I didn’t realise you were not behind me."

The sheer absurdity of the situation caught up with me, and as I fished for my coin purse, I started laughing. I lent across the bar, trying to catch my breath and handed the correct coinage across to Cabot. 

"Friend of yours?" He asked in a growl, already snatching the coins up from the stained wooden surface.

I rolled my eyes and turned Nesterin, she was holding one of the little shots in her hand. Eying as though it contained poison. She glared at it hatefully, "suppose this is the end." She knocked the first little cup back, grimaced and picked up another. Then glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. She raised the new little cup to me, "to standardised coinage." 

I picked up one of the little cups, and smacked it against her own, "making new friends." 

Her eyebrow dropped and she glanced away, unsure. "We’re not friends." 

"Not with that attitude," I muttered and I picked up a cracked mug and helped myself to the bottle of wine. That earned me another raised eyebrow of a different sort and a bemused look. I tried to blazen the action out, since I had paid for the wine, maybe I should apologise? 

My words luckily caught in my throat as Mirwen slunk up against the other side of the bar, she gave a little exclamation of glee as she sniffed the jug and poured herself what looked like particularly yellow-ale. And then glanced over her mug, her eyes peeking over the curve of the pottery, "how did you know I love mead?" 

I grinned at Nesterin. 

She ignored me. "Come on, let’s go get a table." 

"Look, there’s Ellana," Mirwen said, pointing with the bowl of salted turnip strips. 

In the shadowest corner of the Tavern, was indeed Ellana. Almost blending into the background in her dark costume. We might have missed her completed but for the shock of blonde hair. She was with someone who was hidden behind the corner of the wall. "Then what good are you?" She demanded of the mystery person. 

"But, I don’t know anything about spatial displacement." The voice replied, in a clipped tone that punctuated each of his words. 

"Is that, Dorian?" Nesterin asked softly. 

Ellana tore something off her neck and thrust it across the table. "You told me," she raised a finger, pointing at what I could only imagine was his chest. "That this would take me back in time, so I could stop him. Not bring me," she waved her hand, "to this dump." 

"Ah, here we go," Mirwen said. She raised her hand, throwing turnip crisps across the floor, "Ellana!" She bellowed.

"That wasn’t me!" Dorian hissed back, before turning with Ellana to the source of the noise. He blinked at me, then at the two other women. And crossed his arms sitting back sulkily in his chair. 

Ellana ground her teeth and snatched the object up from the table, pocketting it. 

Frowning, I turned to Nesterin, "I like this pub." My comment was loud enough for Ellana to realise that she’d been overheard. 

The blonde spat something in elvish that sounded like a curse. 

Nesterin replied in a chilling tone, and all of the warmth in the room seems to be absorbed her words.

"So speaks the Vessel of the _ Vir’Abelasan _, tell me could you have done that without a pocket lexicon in your head?" Ellana drawled and drew a dagger out of its sheath to pick the dirt from under nails.

Nesterin’s lips drew back for a single moment, a snarl that was stifled, "and you’re any better." She spat an elvish words that I didn’t, a title, perhaps? "I see it, in your head. _ Whispering. _" 

Dorian chuckled nervously and looked like he was trying to slip away.

But as he stood up, and came fully into the light his plan was ruined by Mirwen who slung the objects she was carrying onto the table and wrapped Dorian in a hug. "Oh it’s so good to see you!" She announced. 

His hands hung uncomfortably at his side. "Yes, yes," Dorian said, one hand reaching up to tap Mirwen’s back. "Apparently _ I _look the same." Then he dropped his voice, "whatever that means." He pulled back from Mirwen and gave her a sort of half bow and then gave Nesterin a sweeping glance. 

For her part, Nesterin flicked him a disinterested gaze, "not my Dorian." 

I edged past Dorian and Mirwen, sitting down opposite Ellana, "maybe you should start at the top, tell us what you know." 

Ellana stabbed the dagger into the wood of the table, "or else?" Her eyes sparkled with the challenge. 

"You’re not the only one with a magic dagger." I replied. 

The side of Ellana’s mouth quirked up, "you going to stab me Iseshena?" 

"It’s not meant for you, but don’t test me-"

"Ladies!" Mirwen snapped, banging a hand down on the table between us. She ran an exasperated hand through her hair. "Blades away, now. Nesterin, Dorian sit down. We need to figure this out. _ Together _." Then she flicked a glance back at Dorian, "sit down and we’ll get you some of the Fereldan piss-water you like." 

Dorian tugged at his sleeve, and he gave her a particularly cold glare. "I do not like Fereldan ale." But, then his cheeks coloured as he glanced between the expressions of four women who each knew his shameful secret. "_ Fasta vass _, fine." 

As Mirwen, Nesterin and Dorian got settled, Ellana slowly put her dagger away. 

Mirwen raised her eyebrow, "well, Ellana?" 

Dorian coughed. And we looked at him. "I was promised ale," he said quietly. 

The long silence was broken by Nesterin, "maybe you’re a little like my Dorian." 

"So, you were trying to go back before Corypheus found the orb?" Mirwen asked, rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers. 

"No," Ellana snapped, exacerbated. "Corypheus didn’t just find orb, are you even listening to what I’m saying?" 

Mirwen glanced down at her empty cup of mead and gave Ellana an apologetic look, "your story was just difficult to follow, and what does Redcliffe Castle have to do with the price of milk?"

"Eggs," I muttered, and then glanced up to Mirwen, "the expression is what does that have to do with the price of eggs." I reached out for the wine bottle, but it was empty. "We need more wine." I announced. 

"It’s definitely milk." Mirwen retorted, crossing her arms across her chest, "but I concur we need more drinks." 

"So your Dorian was trying to use Alexius’ amulet to send you backwards, rather than forwards?" Nesterin queried, ignoring our discussion. 

She got a curt nod in reply from Ellana. "But it didn’t work." 

"Are you sure he wasn’t just trying to get rid of you?" I asked sweetly, and blinked at Ellana.. 

Mirwen cleared her throat pointedly and hissed, "play nice," at me. Then she turned to Dorian, "do you think you could fix it? Get us back?" 

He rubbed his fingers across the line of his chin and sighed, "I’ll give it a go." 

"Who?" Nesterin asked, her marked hand flarly slightly as she gripped her mug tightly, "did Corypheus get the orb from?" 

Ellana turned to her, she nodded approvingly as though she’d finally found an equal intelligence, "who do you think? _ Fucking Fen’Harel _."


	4. When Heralds Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang get to know each other in the Herald's Rest, compare world states, have a great time.
> 
> >.<

Ellana’s abrupt announcement was met with dull confused silence. 

Mirwen tilted her cup back and forth, and sort of puffed out her cheeks. Her breathed out in a slow, unconvinced whistle. "Fen’Harel?" She asked in a tone that told everyone she didn’t believe a word of what Ellana had just said. She tried to bury a smirk, and raised an eyebrow at the woman sat across from her at the table. 

“That’s ridiculous.” Nesterin snapped, turning away from Ellana. And giving Mirwen a look that told me they were in total agreement. The hint of a smile appeared on Nesterin’s face, before she too buried her expression and shuffled a little on her stool. She glanced up and sipped her wine. 

I realised that Leliana in every world had done her job to perfection, each of these women’s masks were worthy of the Grand Game. 

The corner of Ellana’s mouth raised in a snarl as she picked up the empty wine bottle examining it like a relic from a previous time, before dropped it harshly back down. It bounced and spun, the head pointing directly to Mirwen’s breath. Ellana’s eyes followed the arrow up to Mirwen’s bareface. "It’s a better plan than drinking and sulking, isn’t it?" Then she rounded on me, "Iseshena?" 

The blood drained from my face, and I found myself face to face with my own past. I glanced down at Mirwen and Nesterin, how could I rob them of their blissful, blessed ignorance. I had no idea what they would remember when they returned. "Dirthamen’s mercy," I cursed, "I don’t really think it's our secret to reveal, do you?"  _ Coward,  _ I cursed myself the moment that the words had left my mouth. But I filled the hollow space with a large gulp of wine, effectively drowning my guilt.

My odd words earned me a confused look from Mirwen, who opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again. When Nesterin fell back lightly against the hard panelled wall behind her. Her eyes were pressed tightly together and she shook her head as though she was trying to block out a disturbing sound. When he opened her eyes again, her pupils had disappeared and she sat, shock silent and still. Blank eyes staring blindly ahead. 

Mirwen pulled a wooden necklace out from under her shirt and fiddled with the little object, doing her level best to not stare at Nesterin. 

While, Dorian was gawking plainly, "is she alright?" 

"She does that." Ellana snapped, glaring forwards as though particularly disenchanted by the disruption of her story. 

"So do we have a plan to get back?" Mirwen asked, dropping her necklace and picking up her mead in one gesture. 

Dorian gave her a look, raised his eyebrow and then looked past her for a moment. "Actually," he began scribbling something, Tevene glyphs marked with his fingertip, etched into the grease on the table. "I think, I might-" He stood, looking distracted his mouth muttering silently under his breath. 

"Dorian?" Nesterin questioned, blinking out of her stupor. Her eyes darted around the room, refamiliarising herself with her surroundings. 

He didn’t look back, just raised a hand in acknowledgment, "give me till morning." And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing back from the stairs. 

"Huh," I said watching him go, "looks like we have a plan to get back." I raised my glass, "hopefully." I clapped my hands together, "new round. On me."  _ Since mine are the only coins that worked _ , I thought, but didn’t say. "Ellana what are you drinking?" 

She gave a disgusted look. "I don’t drink."

I whistled out a breath, which turned into a bleak laugh, "I don’t even want to know how you’ve got this far without drinking." I glanced to the other two, "mead? Wine?" 

Mirwen smiled and nodded. 

While Nesterin looked troubled. She didn’t meet my eyes when she too nodded. 

Snatching up the empty bottle, before Ellana or Nesterin used it as an impromptu weapon, and the empty cups, I made my way back down to Cabot. 

When I returned with a tray laden with wine, mead and more of the salted turnip strips. I placed the little snacks in front of Ellana, who probed the bowl with her finger distrustfully. 

Mirwen rolled her eyes at her, "they’re not poison," she snapped, picking one up and crunching it triumphantly. And whispering a thank you to me. 

"If we are to return tomorrow, I hardly feel the need to eat  _ your _ food." Ellana said venomously. Before leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. Her large silver buttons reflecting brightly in the candlelight. 

"Suit yourself." I muttered, taking a turnip crisp for myself, then wiped the salt and grease on my leggings and pouring Nesterin and myself a fresh cup of wine. I pulled my cup to my chest, curling my marked fingers around it, inhaling the fresh scent and settling in. We would have an evening it seemed, might as well try to get to know each other, "strangest thing you’ve done, Mirwen?" 

The fade-eyed woman blinked at me slowly, "you mean ever, or?" 

I tilted my head, giving her a quick smirk, and raised my marked hand. Curling each finger in turn to make my point, my hand flared slightly in response. The light reflect back eerily in her eyes, the same colour as my flickering palm, "since you got the glowy hand." 

She snorted with laughter and flicked her hand through her fire-coloured hair. It fell about her shoulders, in a delicately cascading waterfall. She poked out her lip as she thought, "perhaps, oh, I went to the tomb of the Emerald Knights." She sat up straighter, her fingers knitting together on the table, "it was beautiful-"

"Been there." Nesterin said softly, "it was crawling with Venatori," her voice was a little strained and she took a long sip of her wine as though trying to bury the memory. 

Mirwen laughed lightly and nodded, ‘it was.’ 

I glanced between the two excitedly, "what is it like?" I gushed, pushing my chest forward as I sat enraptured by the stories they could tell. I flushed, then suddenly, feeling like I’d missed something terribly important. "I haven’t been." I admitted. 

"Dull, full of bones." Ellana snapped and twisted Dorian’s empty stool round to put her feet up. Crossing her feet at the ankle. Her statement was undercut slightly when her stomach rumbled. She tried to cover it with an awkward cough and a sneer in Mirwen’s direction. 

Mirwen glanced at Nesterin, who shrugged, "Ellie, have you not eaten since you got here?" 

"Ellana," she corrected sharply. "And it’s really  _ none _ of your business." 

I sighed, "eat," I laughed, pushing the bowl towards Ellana, "one bite won’t leave you trapped here." 

Ellana flicked her pale gaze at me, cold, evaluating, "you’re a Hunter correct? Then you know better than I that fables can still go bump in the night." 

_ She knew that I knew.  _

"Ghilan’nain will guide us home," Mirwen offered, but her piety was slightly undercut as her nose was in her mead. 

Ellana practically purred at Mirwen, it was the most animated I’d ever seen her, "Ghilan’nain will guide us? Who teach you that?’ She cooed, a mocking sort of sound, and clicked her tongue against her teeth, ‘You are such a good Dalish girl." Her nose twitched with disgust and then her expression hardened. Her thumb rubbed across her lips, and lightly moved up one of the scar lines of her face. The forged lines of Dirthamen’s  _ vallaslin.  _

I rubbed at my eyes, trying to keep a smile on my face, try to keep us all in some semblance of friendship. "Ellana, maybe-"

She rounded on me, pale eyes practically glowing with rage, "the gods have never helped me, dear Ghilan’nain never guided  _ me _ out of the fade." 

My response stuck in my throat, the words clawed their way back into my belly. Wrapping themselves in a stone of worry, was it a good guess? How could she possibly know that? 

"You were in the fade as well?" Nesterin broke through, before I had a heartbeat more to think. "At Adamant?" Her fingers twitched tighter around her own mug, before she drained it and poured herself more. Then glanced up and offered me the bottle. 

Mirwen shivered besides me, "please, don’t remind me," she begged and toyed with the necklace that she was wearing around her neck. 

Nesterin breathed hard, and squared her shoulders as though she was preparing to go into battle. "We all left Hawke behind, right?" She asked, and perhaps her truth was a sort of battle. 

"Yes." Mirwen replied quickly, her word a gasp on her lips as her shoulders shook. SIlently she raised her glass. A tribute.

Nesterin glanced up, giving her a small smile of sympathy, her pretty brown eyes full of a lifetime of pain, she knocked her mug against Mirwen’s. 

The clack shook me, and I couldn’t help my indignation. "Why would I leave her?" I demanded and ran my hand across my face.  _ I hadn’t meant to leave anyone _ .

"Her?" Mirwen asked suddenly looking up, and flicking a glance over to Nesterin who looked equally as confused. "Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall?" 

"Yes, Marina Hawke, she’s a she, and," I pushed, taking a long sip of wine, "mostly fine." 

Nesterin was looking at me as though I’d grown another head. 

"Marian," Ellana corrected. She unfolded her crossed legs, and kicked the stool away. 

I flicked her her glance, and then shook my head. Our two worlds seemed so similar, but for a few misplaced letters. Hellana to Ellana, Marina to Marian, the letter from Deshanna, if I hadn’t discovered. I rubbed my fingers under my eyes, trying to clear the thoughts. 

Mirwen twiddled her necklace around her finger and thumb, "who did you leave, Ellana?" 

The blonde coughed pointedly, but she didn't look any of us in the eye. Her expression was carved from stone. "No one, I am far more competent than that." Her voice dropped, "I left no one."

Nesterin hissed something in elvish at Ellana. 

Ellana ground her jaw together, "I would not lie to you." 

"Sure," Nesterin replied, her lips curling downwards in distaste.

"Believe me, you are hardly worth the effort." Ellana retorted, and then grinned. Which, frankly was more terrifying than when she was snapping and snarling. "Maybe, you could be worth the effort." 

Nesterin ignored her, although the blood drained from her face and I noted her hand wrapping tightly around her waist. She shuffled slightly away from Ellana, trying to cover the movement as reaching for more wine. Her expression tight, thoughtful, concerned. 

"Are you, feeling alright?" Mirwen asked her hand reaching across the table to Nesterin. 

As though the gesture burnt her, Nesterin recoiled. She nodded, her voice sharp. "I’m fine." 

Mirwen flushed, her eyebrows reaching upwards, almost surprised by the sudden hostility. She sat back, "what is your problem?" 

Ellana smirked, and looked back at Mirwen, "can’t you tell," her grin was back, white teeth flashing as brightly as her oversized silver buttons. "She’s pregnant.’ 

‘What?’ I gasped, glancing down at her still flat stomach.

Mirwen make the mistake of trying to take Nesterin the wine bottle from her, and got a slapped hand for her troubles. 

"You shouldn't be drinking, if you’re," Mirwen lowered her voice to a hiss, "pregnant." 

Nesterin pulled her now full mug far out of Mirwen’s reach, into her chest and sort of collapsed around it. She didn’t look at anyone and pointedly took another sip of her wine.

Mirwen turned on Ellana, "why would you say that?" She smacked her own forehead with her hand. "Nesterin, what can we do, to help?" 

There was silence for a few heartbeats then Nesterin glanced up at Mirwen, "nothing. He left in every world, didn’t he?" 

Mirwen blinked at her, as the words settled in her mind. "Solas? That." She inhaled, her chest puffing up with indignation and spite, "fucking man." 

  
  



	5. There's No Place Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ladies plan to return home. But to do so, they might just have to work together.

The morning arrived, the sunlight hitting me with the full force of a thousand hammers each directed at my skull. The birds were too loud and I felt some regret for the many bottles of wine, that Nesterin and I had made our way through. 

Groaning as I sat up, I rubbed my eyes and blinked around the room. The room danced, twisting like I was looking through a kaleidoscope. We were still in the Tavern. Because of course we were still in the Tavern. 

I’d at least had managed to find my secret supply of blankets for nights exactly as these. There was a knocking, but there wasn’t a door? I slowly realised that it was not sunlight that was causing my head such agony. 

Ellana was tapping her foot impatiently against the floor, still sat on her stool, arms crossed. Each smack of her foot against the wooden boards hit me afresh. 

‘Can you not?’ I snapped, rolling onto my belly and pushing myself into a sitting position. Pulling the blanket off my shoulders and folding into a square with sharp jerking movmemnts. 

The corners of her mouth twitched down in disgust. And continued tapping. 

I gave her the sweetest smile I could muster, regretted my annoyance as soon as the words were out of my mouth, ‘please stop?’ 

Ellana rolled her eyes, face still tight. I suspected she still hadn’t eaten anything. ‘Oh you’re up.’ 

‘How did you sleep?’ I asked, pushing my hair out of my face and scrunching it as the base of my neck and then tying it into a make-shift knot. 

When Ellana didn’t immediately answer me, I noted that there were dark circles under her eyes. ‘Did you sleep?’  _ How bad was her world that she didn’t trust herself to eat or sleep in the company of any other? _

‘The accommodations are somewhat lacking.’ She mused, trailing a finger across the wooden bench she was sitting on and then exaimed the grease she had picked up on her fingertip. 

‘There are too many steps,’ I offered by way of explanation, ‘to my quarters.’ Then I frowned as I tried to picture the four different rooms, all in the same space. ‘Our quarters?’ I corrected, but it came out like a question. I shook my head to rid myself of the thought. ‘I’d twist my ankle for the pleasure of a softer bed.’ I gave her a look recalling scraps of information from the night before, ‘I did offer you my quarters.’ 

Ellana stifferned and shifted, her gaze resting on Nesterin’s still dozing form. And then back to me.  _ She was terrified _ . I realised with a sure certainty. ‘Where did Mirwen go?’ 

‘She took your coin purse.’ And she gave me a cruel smirk, and then examined the nails on her marked hand, ‘I tried to stop her.’ Her tone of voice told me she didn’t try hard. 

‘Mirwen-?’ 

‘Oh you’re awake!’ Mirwen’s announced from the top of the stairs.

As I twisted round, she was holding a tray with some bowls that smelt frankly like blessings from the gods themselves. ‘I think I love you.’ I whispered, awed as she placed down a pile of freshly cooked bacon. 

Mirwen blushed prettily, and then playfully shushed me. ‘Oh,  _ ir abelas  _ Iseshena,’ she slid my coin purse back to me, ‘Cabot wouldn’t take my coins.’ She said offering me some strange metal disks with sharps and images that I did not recognise. 

‘ _ Tell albatross _ ,’ I replied, distractedly peering at the silver and bronze coins. 

She narrowed her eyes for a single moment, and her mouth opened as though to say something. But, then she seemed to think better of it, delicately picking up a slice of buttered toast and crunching the corner off. 

Holding up a mid sized bronze coin, embossed with a cat wearing a Chantry hat. ‘Can I take this one?’ I asked, the little image amusing me. 

Mirwen laughed, ‘sure. Mind you, it’s practically worthless.’ 

Then as she bent to wake Nesterin, I raised my eyebrows at Ellana,  _ nice try,  _ I mouthed. ‘In this world, it’s one of a kind.’ 

Ellana at least had the decency to look mildy ashamed that her rouse had been caught out. Just a faint pink echo of a blush underneath her cheekbone. 

Nesterin jumped when Mirwen touched her shoulder, her hand already reaching for the empty hilt she carried around for some reason. 

‘I brought breakfast,’ Mirwen said softly. 

‘Mirwen?’ Nesterin asked groggily and pulled her blanket around her tighter. ‘If you were my sister, I would tell you to sod off and let me sleep.’ She flopped back down on her arm, closed her eyes. Seemed to count to ten, mumbled under her breath and sat back up. She eyed up the offerings that Mirwen had brought and picked up a mug of steaming halla milk, she sniffed at it. Smiling for a moment in such a way her eyes crinkled. But then the smile disappeared, leaving her scowling at the steaming mug. She swallowed and replaced the milk on the tray. 

‘Now, Ellana, I know you’re not eating,’ Mirwen laughed, ‘but I got you some porridge anyway.’ She pushed her a steaming bowl, topped with sugar and some kind of berry compote that stained the oats a deep purple. 

Ellana looked at it longingly, but then glanced up at Mirwen, ‘it was a waste, I am quite sure Cabot’s meals are terrible in every world.’ 

We had barely finished eating when Dorian reappeared, bounding up the stairs two at a time. Long-forgotten pencil behind his ear and parchment scrolls spilling out of his arms. He stopped directly in front of Ellana. ‘I need the opal,’ he said without fanfare or greeting. 

Ellana gave him a slow blink, ‘excuse me?’ She said, in a dark tone that was little more than a snarl. She got a nudge from Mirwen for her efforts, and cast us all a black look, before reluctantly pulled out the pendent from under her top. ‘This was my Ma’s.’ She said softly, and looked up at Dorian with big sad eyes. 

‘Was it?’ Nesterin asked in a tone that told her she didn’t believe it at all. 

Ellana narrowed her eyes at Nesterin, then twisted her expression, ‘ugh.’ With slim fingers she reached behind her neck to unclasp it and offered it to the Tevinter Mage. ‘Maybe not,’ she turned to Dorian, ‘but lose it and you’ll lose something important as well.’ 

Dorian blinked at her, and didn’t move to take the pendent. Slowly, he turned towards me, ‘what.’ He gave me a concerned look, ‘Iseshena?’ 

I waved my hand down across the table, ‘no dismembering Dorian.’ I even put on my Inquisitorial voice, for good measure. 

Ellana flicked me a disinterested look. And jerked the necklace out again. 

He didn’t move to take it, but instead slide his pencil out from behind his ear and caught the chain on the end of the implement. Careful not to touch it. He brought it up to the light, and I saw him muttering an incantation under his breath.

I glanced as Nesterin and Mirwen, both mages, lent forwards in rapt interest. Although while Mirwen seemed to be following the process, Nesterin looked distracted. 

Nesterin rubbed two fingers against her temple and watched as her eyes rolled back into her head. As I wondered what the Well was whispering to her, she suddenly lunged forward. ‘Careful,’ Nesteirn hissed in alarm, as the pendent began to glow. 

From the end of Dorian’s pencil, the opal shimmered with a self produced light, illuminating until it was too bright to look at. Suddenly, a flash exploded into the air, which was followed by the scents of burning metal. 

‘ _ Venhedis _ ,’ Dorian cursed as he looked down at the pendent. It seemed uncatched except the metal wings that had framed the pendent had melted off. And the pencil was burnt to a rod of coal. He jumped back in alarm as the liquid metal sizzling down and dropped in a heavy splash right by his shoe. 

As the scent of burning wood filled the air. I heard Cabot shout from below, ‘oi! What’s going on up there?’ 

Dorian didn’t seem to notice, just thinned his lips into a line, ‘just as I feared, you’re going to need to throw this into another Rift.

Dorian had taught the incantation to Mirwen and Nesterin, and wished us well. But he was determined to stay in Skyhold to work on a Plan C. 

So the four of us set out in the direction of the Arbour Wilds in search of a fade Rift that had not yet been closed. It seemed the best option, as although I had no explored the area, Mirwen and Nesterin claimed to know it well. 

We have barely been riding for an hour, when just on the horizon, we came across the first signs of a Rift. The faint green tendrils grasped up into the air, flickering as emerald power pulsated. The Rift mewled as we approached, a lament cast up into the air, begging to be healed. It sort of fizzled, like an Orlesian souffle brought out of the oven too fast and collapsing in on itself. 

Nesterin sat forward on Falon, acting on instinct, her arm already outstretched to close the Rift.

Mirwen cut her off, charging forward, ‘no! If we close it, we'll have to find another Rift.’

Nesterin cursed under her breath, and glanced back at the other made with a resolute nod. She shifted uncomfortably on her hart and then, ‘so we’re going to leave it open, then?’ 

‘Just while we work, then you can close it.’ Mirwen said happily enough, slipping off Varithelan, her aptly named hart. She waited by the side of Nesterin’s hart until the other mage dismounts. Then Mirwen sighed deeply and wrapped her arms around Nesterin, ‘I’m going to miss you so much.’ 

Nesterin stood awkwardly, before patting her on the back twice. ‘Yes.’ She replied. 

Mirwen turned to Ellana and me, her face hopeful and optimistic, ‘keep the demons off us?’ She throw a wink towards Ellana, who scowled. 

‘Of course,’ I whispered in reassurance, slipping off Torchbearer and tying him up against a tree. Then, I took up a position on a slight hill to rain arrows down on anything that dared stumble through into this world. 

Wordlessly, Ellana started rooting through her saddle bags. 

I flicked her a glance, wondering why she was not readying her crossbow. I didn't have to wonder for long as she pulled a handful of bombs, jars and cocktails from her bags. 

‘Stand back, Iseshena.’ She hissed, twisting my name into a sheer. She lobbed the first jar, which was sherpical and filled with a gloopy yellow mixture. The sulphur-scented concoction hit the ground under the Rift with a small clatter and smashed onto the ground. She threw the rest of the potions, until her hands were empty and she pulled her crossbow into her hands. ‘Don’t step in the goo.’ She warned, and gave me a once over, ‘if you like your legs.’ 

Gawping at her for a moment, I recoiled as the first creature ripped through the veil to our side. I hadn’t even gotten the first arrow from my quiver, before a resounding clack, echoed across the battle ground. 

Ellana had hit it square in the forehead, she shrugged back to me and faked a yawn, ‘do I have to do it all myself?’ 

Raising an eyebrow, I settled back, watching with a stupid grin of amusement on my face. Sure that in her overconfidence she would forget to keep a count of her bolts, and she’d be empty within a few minutes. I eventually took pity on her when six more demons tumbled through the tear in the sky. 

While, that round was easily dealt with, twelve wraiths clawed forth, seeming to tunnel through the ground. Their see through skin, glistened in the afternoon sunlight. ‘Mirwen!’ I yelled, as four of them surrounded me. I flinched as the first reached out for me... and bounced straight off. 

As I peeked my eyes open I found my skin covered in a barrier the same shade as her eyes, the same shade as the Rifts.  _ The same emerald green that… no _ , I shook away the through and breathed out in relief. Yelling my thanks as I reached back for another arrow, the wraith in front of me lost its head. 

I blinked in surprise to see Nesterin behind it, wielding a shiny silver and lazurite hilt with a brightly glowing blade. The spirit turned weapon glimmered as she sliced through foe after foe. The fresh grin came unbidden to my face, ‘you’re an Emerald Knight!’ I gapsed and then ducked from a new attack. 

Nesterin sprung from me, beheading wraiths as she went in furious rampage. 

And I realised I’d barely fired an arrow. These women were easily more proficient in battle than I was, and I felt some sense of awe being allowed to even meet them. 

I could see Nesterin, Darting deftly between the splashed potions that Ellana has thrown, hacking and slashing like a warrior-born. Then, I spotted Mirwen crouched nearby, she was huddled as she spoke the incantation. 

There was another flash of blinding light. 

_ Nothing.  _

‘It isn’t working!’ Mirwen shouted. Climbing back to her feet and pulling her staff from the back of her hart to properly join the fight. She moved swiftly over to Nesterin, and tossed the pendent to her. ‘Give it a go.’

Jumping over a particularly potent puddle, Nesterin snatched the amulet from the air. 

Mirwen cast a circle of fire to protect Nesterin as she worked. The flames lapping up around her. 

I found my way to Ellana, and between us we sniped at anyone who came close. Until the moment came when I heard Ellana curse violently under her breath. I glanced across, she was out of bolts and frantically patting her pockets down looking for more. I hid my smirk. ‘You out?’ I called. 

She glanced at me, staring down at her crossbow furiously, ‘I don’t understand, I’ve never run out before.’ 

I patted Ellana’s shoulder, ‘it happens to the best of us.’ 

She hissed at me. 

‘Get down!’ Nesterin cried, and tossed Ellana’s pendent towards the Rift.

My heart was pounding violently in my ears, as I watched the little jewel tumble through the air. Time seemed to slow, and I saw a terror demon creep up behind Nesterin. As I fired we were swathed in another blast of blinding light. Half blinding myself in the process, I stumbled, rubbing at my eyes and found myself alone. 

I glanced around, the Rift was closing, the final gasp as it popped out of existence. There three women had gone, and Torchbearer was still tied up to the tree where I had left him. 

He glanced up at me, chewing a mouthful of grass slowly. A piece fell out and fluttered down to the ground. 

With a final look back, I climbed onto Torchbearer and rode back to Skyhold. As I approached the castle, I turned and took the little path up to the clan’s camp. A weed reached out and snagged against Torchbearer’s leg. Cursing under my breath, I climbed down and lead him the rest of the way on foot. 

I frowned, as the boundary statues were missing. And sprinted a few more steps forward. I ran my hands through my hair. The clearing was empty. ‘Fuck.’

  
  



End file.
